


Stupid Little Brothers and Stupid Birthday Things

by flyingmousetrap



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Samulet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingmousetrap/pseuds/flyingmousetrap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam throws Dean a completely pointless surprise party which really just consists of them getting drunk and watching football at Bobby's, and of course he invites Dean's one and only guardian Angel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Little Brothers and Stupid Birthday Things

‘Dean.’ Sam’s whisper was low; his eyes focused on Dean as he pulled him to the side, Dean raised an eyebrow.  
‘What?’ he asked, shaking his little brother’s hands off him, ‘Dude, calm down.’ Sammie was grinning in a way that Dean didn’t find comforting.  
‘It’s your birthday tomorrow.’ Sam said conspiratorially, and Dean blinked.  
‘So?’ he said gruffly, it wasn’t like they were going to do anything just because he’d got another freaking year older.  
‘So we’re between cases, I thought we’d go back to Bobby’s – relax for a bit.’ Sammie looked way too happy just at the prospect of going home to get drunk with Bobby for Dean’s birthday – but Dean decided not to push it; getting drunk with Sam and Bobby was one of his favourite things after all.

Bobby welcomed them home in his usual gruff manner, but gave Dean an extra pat on the back and what was, quite frankly, a really nice bottle of scotch. It totally made up for the long drive from the ass-end of Washington it had taken to get here, fucking vampires. The old hunter had bought in a heap of junk food, and, thank god, some pie, and they were going to settle down to watch a game on Bobby’s beaten up TV set when Sam stood up, walked into the centre of the room and said very loudly;  
‘Oh Castiel, who is not here right now, Dean is in trouble and totally like, sat on his ass crying like a little girl and you need to come kiss it better.’ Dean barely had the chance to stand up to punch his little brother in the face when all he could see was six foot nothing of concerned, grumpy, Angel.  
‘Dean’ Cas’s voice was low, those unblinking eyes fixed on Dean’s just as intently as they always were, ‘You do not appear to be crying.’ The usual mix of confusion and annoyance that the Angel seems to reserve just for Dean is in full play. Dean scowls.  
‘Because I’m NOT Cas, Sam’s just being a bitch.’ A stifled snort from behind Cas reminds Dean of precisely how dead his little brother is going to be within the next ten minutes. Cas tilts his head  
‘Then why am I here Dean?’ Cas asks bluntly, and Dean tries not to let it hurt his feelings, him and Sammy barely celebrate birthday’s themselves – why would Angels?  
‘Birthday party!’ Sam chimes in in a voice that is far too happy for someone Dean is going to imminently strangle, Cas turns to face him.  
‘It is not the anniversary of Dean’s birth for another three hours’ he says, perfectly serious, and Sam laughs; actually laughs in Cas’s face, the twerp.  
‘It’s not the time that matter, y’ Angel idjit’ Bobby growls out, ‘it’s the celebrating; now sit down all of you – the game’s starting.’ Cas looks at Bobby for a moment, before turning back to Dean, and then slowly moving to sit in the spare chair.  
They watch football together for two and a half hours, all the while trying to persuade Cas to eat – he won’t.

After the football, Dean goes to check on the Impala – he mostly just wants to go get some fresh air; all of the birthday cheer in the world can’t distract from a tipsy Sam and an even drunker Bobby. Cas of course is his usual Angelic self, and simply follows Dean out without being asked. Dean sit’s on his baby’s hood, and after a moment, Cas joins him.  
They’ve been sitting in comfortable silence for nearly half an hour when Cas speaks;  
‘It is now the anniversary of your birth.’ He says solemnly, Dean stares.  
‘Nice of you to remember.’ He says after a pause and Cas almost smirks.  
‘All of heaven remembers the moment, Dean, my knowledge is no great achievement,’ Dean huffs then.  
‘Great Cas.’ He mutters, ‘remind me how you are your freaky siblings spent the last thirty years stalking me, just what I wanted for my birthday’ Cas frowns.  
‘I did not mean to present this knowledge as a gift – that was not my intention’ he states, his tone confused. Dean says nothing, ‘Do you require a gift?’ Cas says slowly, Dean chuckles.  
‘You even turning up was pretty awesome Cas,’ he says frankly, ‘though I swear football is not that hard to understand,’ Cas wrinkles his nose.  
‘I simply think that if the players ceased to bump into each other, the game would be improved – it would be quicker and require less padding.’ Dean let out a full laugh then, Cas still just stared.  
‘I will give you a gift, Dean.’ Cas says solemnly, when Dean has finished laughing, and Dean just kind of looks at him.  
‘I was kidding Cas,’ he says quickly, ‘I mean, I was serious – it’s just cool that you’re here.’ Cas shakes his head, reaching into his shirt and pulling out Dean’s amulet, staring at it intently. Dean swallows, he misses the weight of the damn thing around his neck so much he just wants to reach out and grab it, even though he’s fairly sure Cas isn’t offering.  
‘I cannot give this back yet,’ the Angel says slowly, ‘But I can offer a replacement.’  
‘What?’ Dean blurts, ‘um, I don’t need a copy Cas I’ll have it back when you’re done,’ but Cas shakes his head.  
‘Not a copy.’ The Angel shuts his eyes then, and there is a rustle of static in the air, a displacement of space and a sharp waft of ozone.  
And there are wings.  
Dean can’t even speak, he just stares, as Cas shuffles and then settles the great white things around him, looking at his own wings with great intent before grabbing one of his own feathers and, with little ceremony, yanking it out. Dean lets out the breath he was holding with a startled yelp;  
‘Cas!’ but the Angel simply smiles.  
Cas holds the feather out, and Dean takes it – it sends a shock through his fingers as he grips it; strong, but not unpleasant. He looks at it for a moment before Cas reaches for it again, as the Angel touches it, it warps and shrinks and begins to shine, until Dean is holding a tiny golden charm, only an inch long, with a leather thong looped through it.  
‘There,’ Cas says, and there is a warmth in his monotone that Dean won’t recognise until later, ‘a replacement’ And then the wings stretch and flap, and the Angel is gone.

When Dean goes back inside, still clasping the necklace, Sam is waiting for him.  
‘So how did your little three-way go?’ he says with a wide grin, ‘does Cas understand that you’ll never love him as much as the car?’  
Dean decides he will use the necklace to strangle Sam before he puts it on.


End file.
